


quick and dirty (just the way dean likes it)

by crooked



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-03
Updated: 2010-09-03
Packaged: 2017-10-11 10:49:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/111601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crooked/pseuds/crooked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A demon hunter and a wizard from the 1970s walk into a photo booth...</p>
            </blockquote>





	quick and dirty (just the way dean likes it)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [quidditchkiss](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=quidditchkiss).



> [original post](http://crooked.livejournal.com/130478.html) @ livejournal.

"Fucking great idea, Sammy," Dean muttered to himself as he stood in the middle of King's Cross Station, their battered duffel bags at his feet while Sam ran off to the Information Booth. He let out a mournful sigh as he thought about the Impala, sitting all forlorn and Deanless in the long-term parking lot at JFK International. If she had a single scratch on her that wasn't already there...

Dean shifted the thick strap of the laptop bag from one shoulder to the other, wondering how Sam didn't have a permanent indentation from the weight of the thing. It had been the goddamn laptop that got him into this mess in the first place. Ever the ambitious nerd, Sam had started visiting paranormal forums and boards that focused on haunted dwellings. He read this thread about the most haunted building in all of Britain - some place called the Shrieking Shack - and got that gleam in his eye. Dean had shook his head immediately, protested, explained that they couldn't exactly afford to take what amounted to Sam's geeky dream vacation. But Sam had always been a master at puppy eyes. So the next thing he knew, Dean was sitting by helplessly as Sam booked them on the soonest flight he could find. (It was sheer coincidence that Dean spilled a beer perilously close to the laptop just a bit later.)

So there he was, not in Scotland like he thought would have been easier since the damned building was there, but in London with a brother who insisted it was necessary to start from King's Cross. Dean just thought that Sam was pretty much out of his mind but he was stuck now; he'd have to just go along with the crazy until the ride came to an end.

A sudden hand on his shoulder caused Dean to nearly jump out of his skin. He whirled about with an angry scowl on his face. "Goddamn, Sammy, I swear you're the quietest giant..." But he trailed off as he realized it wasn't his brother staring back at him. He knew because Sam didn't smirk like that and he definitely didn't have unnatural-looking gray eyes. He also was relatively certain that Sam wasn't that pretty and did he just call some guy pretty? But the son of a bitch _was_.

"Oh, I. Ha," Dean stammered, feeling the tips of his ears heat. When had he ever been such a fifteen-year-old girl? There was just something about this guy that made Dean's breath catch in his throat. "I thought you were..."

"Someone else?" the other guy offered helpfully, his hand still clasped over Dean's shoulder. He ran a hand through his dark hair and flashed Dean a little smile, the sort of smile that he knew well. He'd used that smile countless times. It was the one that said 'man or woman, you're just pretty as fuck so let's hit the backseat'. He'd never actually been the recipient of one until now, never given anyone the chance to take the reins. This guy? Already knew he was in complete control. Dean could tell by the way he shifted closer.

He nodded and swallowed, the process a bit harder than it should have been. "Yeah, well. My brother, see. He's looking for the right stop or platform or whatever the hell you call it over here." Dean let out a nervous little laugh and shuffled just an inch or two closer himself, the hypnotic gaze of the other young man drawing him in. And he didn't even know why the guy had touched him in the first place. (By this point, he didn't particularly care.)

"And your brother? He's a giant," the boy said, leaning in and lowering his voice to a conspiratorial tone to match his amused expression. Dean laughed and shook his head; he'd seen some unbelievable things but giants were pure fairytale.

"No, he's just stupidly tall," he answered with a grin at the image of his little brother towering over him. "But giants aren't real, man."

Still closer than necessary, the other guy quirked an eyebrow as if Dean had issued a challenge. "Oh, I don't know about that. I bet I could show you things you'd never believe."

Dean leaned in despite the fact that few people were around to hear their hushed tones. He was now thoroughly amused that someone was trying to school him on the Unexplained. "Oh, yeah? Try me."

With a flash of pink tongue darting out to wet his lips, the other guy's lips curled into a devious grin and he all but whispered, "I'd love to."

In what had to be less than fifteen seconds, the guy had somehow managed to shove Dean into one of the passport photo booths he'd seen scattered around the railway station. He and Sam's things were forgotten the second a pair of lips crushed against his, an eager tongue not waiting for the unspoken invitation of parted lips. Dean let out of muffled sound of discontent when Sam's laptop cut into his hip and he took the time to push back and let the thing drop to his feet.

"I don't even know your fucking name," Dean panted out, a bit breathless already. The guy smiled as he advanced on Dean again, grabbing at the lapels of his leather jacket and pulling him forward until their hips met.

"Didn't stop you before," he whispered, his lips teasingly brushing Dean's and his body arching slightly against his. "But it's Sirius, if you must know. Now shut the fuck up and kiss me."

Dean hesitated for just a second on the strange name and even longer on the demand this Sirius had just made. But instead of pushing away from him and giving him a solid right-hook, Dean was spurred on by the look in Sirius' eyes. He grabbed roughly at the back of Sirius' neck and pulled him toward him with a low growl, their lips clashing together once again. It was nothing but a power struggle with this one, Dean thought idly as Sirius' hands scrambled frantically to get into his jeans. But Dean put up no resistance and even leaned back against the opposite wall to grant Sirius better access. He nudged his thigh between the other boy's legs as Sirius fell against his chest, hand curled about Dean's dick and lips too wet and too close. Dean had no choice but to bite at them.

Sirius only grinned and jerked his fist faster, grinding against Dean with a sort of urgency that made Dean push his leg up a bit higher. When Sirius whimpered, soft and desperate and right against the hollow of his neck, Dean couldn't hold back his own low moan. He felt the bite of teeth at his neck and Dean's hips bucked forward, his elbow jerking back and slamming into the wall. He hissed and Sirius laughed so Dean tangled his fingers in Sirius' hair and pulled sharply back, exposing the long line of his pale neck. Dean returned the favor and closed his teeth over Sirius' flesh hard enough to leave an angry red mark, but not so hard that it didn't elicit a soft cry of pleasure from the dark-haired boy. He rutted against Dean even harder, his movements jerky and erratic and his hand still working furiously inside Dean's pants.

Dean had been holding out, trying to stop himself from coming because damn if he was going to let Sirius win their little battle, but Sirius suddenly started sucking on his neck and broke his concentration. He let out a strangled cry (doing his best to stifle himself because the last thing he needed was for Sam to come shuffling in) and came all over Sirius' fist. As he struggled to catch his breath, Sirius thrust against Dean's thigh once, twice, and a third time before he was shuddering against his body, fingers of his free hand twisting into Dean's shirt. He let out a soft sigh as his body relaxed, face tucking into the crook of Dean's neck and his breath puffing hotly against the skin. Dean just stood still, awkwardly positioned in the corner of the booth, and waited for the oxygen that seemed to have left the air to return.

After a few moments of deep breaths and sated sighs, Sirius finally disentangled himself from Dean (but not before kissing one last time at his neck). He still wore that cocky grin and it both infuriated and thrilled Dean at the same time. "So. We've, uh, got a bit of a mess..." Dean started to say with a sheepish grin. But Sirius had whipped out a... stick. His first time in London and Dean managed to fuck a nutcase.

But a strange light started to swirl from the tip of the stick and, in a flash, Dean realized he was as clean as before they entered the photo booth. (His clothes were, at any rate.) He looked up with wide eyes at Sirius and that ever-present grin hadn't faded. "Told you I'd show you things you wouldn't believe," he said with a nonchalant shrug. He moved in for another kiss, his lips slow and lazy as they lingered against Dean's mouth.

And then he simply walked out.

Dean was too stunned by whatever he'd just seen and Sirius' sudden departure to move for a few moments but the sound of Sam's voice calling out to him snapped him out of his trance. Dean pushed aside the curtain and rushed out, looking wildly about as his brother approached him. He had to be there somewhere...

"I ask you to watch our things for five, maybe ten minutes and you're off playing Picture Day," Sam half-heartedly scolded Dean. "I know you missed out during your school years, Dean, but we've got a train to catch."

Dean didn't hear more than two words of what Sam had said, however, because he was still swinging his head back and forth in a vain attempt to catch a glimpse of black hair or gray eyes. "Did you see..." he started to ask his brother but bit his lip, thinking better of it. Dean could already see the questions forming on Sam's lips, the creasing of his brow, and he just didn't want to deal with it. "Uh. Did you see the toilets, man? Gotta pay for that shit."

Sam narrowed his eyes a bit and cocked his head to the left, and Dean knew he was still on the verge of questioning him. But the look passed as soon as it had crossed his face and Sam just shook his head, his standard reaction to Dean. He clapped his brother on the shoulder and pushed him toward the photo booth. "My fucking computer better be in there," he said as he walked back over to where their bags still lay.

Dean wandered inside and retrieved Sammy's precious cargo, slinging it over his shoulder and turning to leave the booth. A white square of cardboard lay in the developed photo tray. He picked it up out of curiosity and cracked it open to see who had occupied the booth before he'd been in there with Sirius. He nearly dropped Sam's laptop as he stared down at an image of himself, head thrown back against the wall, and Sirius, sucking at his neck. His hand was shoved into Dean's jeans and Dean was clutching at the back of Sirius' neck. He knew for a fact that they'd not put any money into that damn machine but yet there was the picture, black and white and sharply in focus.

He just smiled to himself as he rejoined Sam a few moments later, the picture tucked safely in his jacket's inside pocket. Sam nudged Dean's shoulder and jerked his head in the direction of the platform they were due to depart from. Dean pushed his hands deep into his back pockets and happily followed. He was beginning to see the charm of England after all.


End file.
